


Taking Flight (And Finding Home)

by faithfulpenelope



Series: The Thousandth Man [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:31:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7117687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulpenelope/pseuds/faithfulpenelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only one reason Leonard McCoy passes his flight test, and his name is Jim Kirk.<br/>Now Bones just has to figure out how to thank him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Flight (And Finding Home)

“Congratulations, Cadet. You passed.”

Leonard McCoy blinks. Blinks again.

“Pardon?” he says finally. His instructor unbuckles her harness, gathers up her PADD.

“I said, congratulations. You passed.”

_I passed._

“I…passed,” he says lamely.

“So I said,” she mocks dryly. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind clearing out, I need the chair.”

“What – oh, yeah, sure.” He unbuckles his own harness, steps out of the shuttle into the busy bay.

_I passed my flight test._

“Holy shit,” he says. “I passed my flight test.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jim Kirk is pacing.

He paces back and forth along the sidewalk in front of the main shuttle training bay, stopping only to watch as shuttles fly shakily up into the atmosphere or back down to earth. He knows one of them has McCoy in it, he just doesn’t know which.

He checks his comm. It’s been two hours since Bones disappeared through the bay doors with a nervous but determined look on his face and Jim’s final words – follow your proper procedure, Bones, just like a surgery – in his ears. Normal tests take an hour, plus paperwork and waiting for the guy in front of you…

Jim fidgets nervously. The bay’s busy today, he tells himself. No reason to assume the worst.

He checks his comm again. Two hours, two minutes.

“Jim!”

McCoy’s voice carries across the lawn and Kirk whips around, realizing Bones wouldn’t be yelling for him unless…

“He passed,” he breathes. “Holy shit, Bones, you passed!”

“Holy shit, I passed,” McCoy whoops, and then Jim’s got 180 pounds of relieved doctor in his arms, and they’re both laughing, out of joy and relief and disbelief. Cadets around them stop and stare, but Kirk ignores them, hugs Bones closer, feels his heart beating wildly against his.

“Fuck, Bones, I’m so proud of you,” he says into McCoy’s hair. “I knew you could do it.”

“No, you didn’t,” comes McCoy’s answer, and Jim barks out a surprised laugh.

“No, I didn’t,” he agrees cheerily, and McCoy grins. “Holy shit, Bones.”

“It wasn’t pretty,” McCoy admits. “I’m not going to be switching to the tactical track any time soon. But I did it. It’s over.”

“It’s over,” Kirk echoes. “You know what this means, don’t you, Bones? It means you’ve got no excuses anymore. It means…” his eyes light up, and he whips out his PADD, holds it up like a bible. “Say it, Bones.”

“Say what?”

“You know what,” Kirk says solemnly.

“I – you were serious?”

“Oh course I was!”

Bones rolls his eyes but he’s still smiling, too full of adrenaline to be truly annoyed. "Fine. When you get -"

"No," Kirk interrupts. "The right way. Hand up."

"Oh, for the love of - fine." McCoy raises his right hand, puts his left hand on Jim's PADD. "I, Len McCoy – “

" _Bones_. Full name. This is an oath you’re giving here."

McCoy glares but Jim just looks at him with a patient gaze, and McCoy sighs. "I, Leonard Horatio McCoy, do solemnly swear that when James Tiberius Kirk is made captain and gets his own ship, I will be his Chief Medical Officer. There, happy?"

Jim beams. "Extremely. Now come on." He slings an arm around McCoy's shoulders and Bones doesn't even try to resist, just leans into the touch. "It is time to celebrate with the finest bourbons in the land! Or at least that Delaney's has behind the bar."

"As exciting as third-rate bourbon from Delaney's sounds..." McCoy leans in close, lets his lips brush the shell of Jim's ear. "I may have something else planned for us. As a sort of thank you, for getting me through this."

Jim's grin is wide and bright, mischievous and childlike at the same time. "Yeah?" he breathes, and McCoy nods.

"Get to class before you're late, but come by for dinner tonight," he says. "We'll go from there."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jim's at his door fifteen minutes after his class ends. He's practically vibrating in excitement as he dips into the bedroom, reappears in a pair of jeans he's left one day and an old t-shirt of McCoy's. "So you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Nope," McCoy says, and ignores Jim's frustrated whine of _but Bones!_ in favor of shoving two plates at him. "Make yourself useful."

"Some thank you," Jim complains.

"Oh, shut it." Bones sets a bottle of Jim's favorite beer in front of him and Jim perks right up. "The thank you is still coming."

"I'm intrigued, Bones."

"You're something, all right." McCoy lays a tea towel down on the coffee table and disappears into the small kitchenette, only to reappear a minute later with a casserole dish. He sets it down and Jim's jaw drops.

It’s a homemade dinner. Specifically, a homemade lasagna.

"Bones, when you said dinner, I thought you meant something from the mess or the replicator. But this - Bones, you made me lasagna!"

"I remember you saying it was one of your favorite dishes," McCoy says, and he feels his cheeks flush when Jim looks up at him with shining eyes. "And contrary to what you may think of me, I can cook. I just don't like fighting all my idiot dorm mates for the kitchen facilities."

"Wow," Jim says, and he sounds awed, reverential almost. "I just…nobody’s ever cooked for me before, Bones.”

"It wasn't -" Bones stops himself from saying it wasn't anything, because judging from Jim's reaction, it's something to him. Jim's still gazing at him, and Bones is overcome by the urge to kiss those slightly-parted lips. Jim makes a little happy noise when he does, kisses him back with a soft tug on his lower lip. "You're welcome. It's the least I could do."

He doesn't even yell at Jim when he sticks his fork right in the casserole dish, can't help but smile as Jim's obvious delight as the cheese stretches and stretches until it finally snaps. "Replicator cheese doesn't do that," he says, a hint of contentment in his voice. He sticks the entire forkful in his mouth and McCoy watches his eyes flutter shut and his shoulders relax into a slouch.

"Oh, Bones," he says finally. He opens his eyes and grins. "You realize what you've done, don't you? That I'm going to refuse to eat anything else now?"

McCoy looks down, because he's embarrassed how pleased he is. "Well, at least this way I might actually get some vegetables in you," he grumps instead, and Jim laughs.

The casserole dish is mostly empty by the time they're finished, and Jim lays out on the floor, eyes closed and one hand rubbing his stomach. "Jesus, Bones," he sighs. "You're going to have to roll me to bed."

McCoy crawls over until he's crouched over Kirk. "Does that mean you don't want the rest of your thank you?"

One eye cracks open immediately. "There's more?"

McCoy grins, leans down for a kiss. Jim tastes like good beer and red sauce and Jim, and Bones licks at his mouth, his tongue, anxious for more.

"There's a lot more," he whispers into Jim's mouth. "You think you're ready for it?"

He feels more than sees Jim's grin, and a hand comes up to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. "Ready and waiting."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They get to the bus stop with minimal breaks to make out and Bones shoves Jim on board. "You realize I can see where we're going," Jim says, and McCoy gives him a wicked grin.

"That's what this is for," he says, and then suddenly Jim's world is going dark as Bones ties a blindfold over Kirk's eyes.

"What - _damn_ , Bones, you just got kinky _fast_ ," Jim says, sounding both shocked and pleased. "I _approve_."

"I should have known you would," Bones snarks. "Now hush up. We're almost there."

He doesn't have to see Jim's eyes to know his mind is whirling, trying to calculate time and distance in an attempt to track their movements. He lets Jim work at it, because Jim may be a genius but Bones is pretty sure even he couldn't figure it all out.

Their destination comes into view and Bones pushes the stop button, grabs Jim's hand to steady him. "Hold on, we're getting off," he tells him, and snorts at Jim's grin. "You got a dirty mind, kid."

"You love my dirty mind," Jim retorts, and Bones just shakes his head, because he does. He swipes his pass and the doors click as they unlock. Jim follows obediently as he guides him through the cool room, stops when Bones tells him to. Then Bones steps away and Jim hears the familiar hiss of -

The blindfold comes off and Jim blinks into the light of the shuttle bay.

The shuttle in front of them is open, its hatch perched in the air. His eyes crinkle in confusion. "Okay, you lost me, Bones."

"I know the young man who works the night shift," Bones explains. "His kid needed a very specific surgery, one Starfleet doctors had never done before, at least before I showed up. The operation was successful, and he told me to come to him if I ever needed anything. I never really thought I’d collect."

Jim files that away for future consideration, the fact that there are things Bones knows that all of Starfleet doesn’t. "So he let you in the bay?" He likes the thought of Bones calling in favors like some Georgian Godfather, but he still can’t quite figure out what it has to do with him.

"He's letting us take it up," Bones explains, watches the confusion in Kirk's face give way to shock. "You wanna go flying with me, kid?"

Jim stares at him, wild-eyed, for a long moment, then shakes his head out, as if he's trying to knock himself out of a dream. "Fuck yeah, I do," he says, and McCoy grins.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirk does most of the work, brings the shuttle up and out nice and easy, and McCoy sits back and lets him, because he may have passed his flight test but he doesn’t have any delusions of grandeur. He waits until Jim's put them in orbit, gives him a few minutes to gaze out into the universe, before he suggests Jim put on the autopilot.

"It's fine," Jim says, too distracted by the stars to notice Bones is unlocking his harness, setting his own controls to auto. "I can keep her in orbit pretty easily."

"Jim." McCoy's voice is insistent now, and Kirk looks up just in time to see McCoy's shirt drop to the floor.

His jaw drops with it.

"Set the autopilot," Bones says again. Kirk stares for another minute, then blinks, swallows hard, and nods.

"Yeah," he agrees, his fingers fumbling over the controls as he tries to set them without taking his eyes from McCoy, who is stepping out of his boots and socks. "Yeah. Uh, Bones, what are you doing?"

"Well, Jim." McCoy's voice is even. "I was trying to think of a way to say thank you, for getting me through this, because god knows, you’re the only reason I made it." His jeans drop next and Kirk thinks his heart might explode because McCoy has gone commando. "And then I remembered what you said the other night in the bar, when we were talking about being in space. Do you remember what you said, Jim?"

"I, uh." Jim's having trouble forming full sentences, because McCoy's in front of him now, unbuckling his harness and pulling his shirt up and over his head. "I, uh, said I couldn’t want to see what sex in space was like."

"That's right, Jim," Bones purrs, and Jim's boots hit the floor, followed by his socks. He taps Jim's thigh and Jim obediently lifts his hips, watches his jeans and underwear join the pile. "So I thought, what better way to thank you for getting me into space -" He derails his own thought as he slides into Jim’s lap, bare skin warm against bare skin, and sucks at his lower lip, mouths wet kisses along his jaw until he's at Jim's ear. "What better way to thank you than sex in space. More specifically, you fucking me while you watch the stars go by.”

Jim can’t answer with anything but a whimper, because never in a million universes could he have ever seen this coming, and he feels helpless against the love and lust crashing through his body. Bones smiles, his eyes soft. "Good idea?" he whispers, and Jim nods.

"The best," he whispers back. "Fuck, Bones. I can't - I don't know what to say -"

"You don't have to say anything." McCoy's hands are warm against his chest. "Just let me thank you." Then he slithers down to the floor, Jim’s knees wide on other side of him, and takes Jim in his mouth, and Jim gasps like he’s been punched in the gut. McCoy’s mouth is perfect, hot and wet and the perfect amount of suction, and Jim doesn’t know where to look, because he wants to watch the stars but he can’t turn away from the brown head in his lap.

“ _Bones_ ,” he whines, his knuckles white from his grasp around the arm rests. “Oh, _fuck_.”

Bones takes mercy, pulls off with a wet pop, before sucking a hard mark into Jim’s thigh and straightening up on his knees to kiss Jim. Jim grabs his face, squeezes him in place with his knees, and kisses him deep, sucks his tongue. McCoy pulls back with a gasp and Kirk is gratified to see he looks as disheveled as Jim feels. Then Bones lick his lips.

“How do you want me?” he whispers, and Jim just about comes just from that question alone. He has to think about it for a minute, because really, how many chances is he ever going to get like this.

“Over the console,” he manages, and McCoy’s face flushes red with need. “I want you over the console.”

“You got it,” he breathes, pulls himself to his feet then grabs Jim’s hand and hauls him up too. “God, Jim, come on.”

“Wait, we need to prep -”

“No, we don’t,” McCoy says, voice full of mischief, and slides a hand wet with lube – where the hell did he get lube from? – up and down his dick. “I took care of it already.”

Jim feels like he should be asking _who are you_ and _what have you done with Bones_ but what he says is, “ _fuck yes_ , Bones, you are fucking _amazing_ ,” and Bones just kisses him and swats his ass until Jim pushes into that perfect heat.

“ _God_ , Jim,” Bones pants, pushing back into Jim. “That’s it.” His hands grip tighter around the edge of the console as Jim starts to thrust harder. He arches his back, breathes heavy, and then the thought hits him hard and fast and it’s out before he can begin to censor himself. “Fuck me, _Captain_.”

Jim makes a squeaky noise and his hips stutter, his rhythm interrupted. He wheezes out a raspy laugh, a soft _holy fuck, Bones_ , before he wraps one hand around McCoy’s shoulder and one around his hip and starts to pound into him. And then he starts talking.

“I’m going to fuck you all over my ship, you know that, don’t you, Bones,” he whispers in his ear, feels McCoy shudder under him, “over a biobed in the Medbay and up above the warp core in Engineering. I’m going to sit in my captain’s chair and you’re going to sit in my lap and ride me, right in the middle of the bridge. Then I’m going to bend you over the conn and take you there.” McCoy moans, drops his head, and Kirk grabs his hair and yanks him back up. “And you’re going to let me, aren’t you, Doctor?”

“Is that an order, Captain?” McCoy teases back.

“Do I have to make it one?” Jim’s response is quick, light, but there’s a hesitation in his voice that only McCoy could have felt and heard. He suddenly sees his mistake: that as much as Jim longs for the title and a ship and a crew to call his own, he doesn’t want to force anyone to be there. He wants them to follow him willingly, to know that they trust him to lead them and bring them home safe. The realization floods through his bones, a tide of love and pride and devotion unlike anything he thinks he’s ever felt.

“Never,” he gasps, wrapping an arm around Jim’s neck and pulling him close. “Never, Jim. God, we’re here in this shuttle, Jim, because I wanted you to take me, here, in space. I want to go to space with you, Jim. I want everything with you.” The words tumble out before he can really think what he’s saying and for a split second, he fears it’s too much, but then Jim whimpers, buries his face in McCoy’s neck and comes hard, pulling Bones over the edge with him. His grip on the console gives out and it’s only Kirk’s inhuman reflexes that get them to the floor without serious injury, McCoy’s back to Kirk’s front and Kirk’s back to the pilot’s chair. Bones lets his head loll back to Kirk’s shoulder with a jagged sigh and when his check brushes against Jim’s lips, he realizes Jim is whispering something, a soft litany of _me too, Bones, want it all, want everything with you._

“Everything,” he whispers back, twisting so he can see Jim’s eyes, the emotion written so clearly across his face: disbelief, hope, love. Bones strokes his cheek. “You’re my thousandth man, Jim. Where you go, I go.”

Jim gives a soft moan, closed his eyes, and when they open again he looks torn apart, laid bare. He’s holding something in, Bones knows he is, but before he can ask the console is beeping that their time is almost up, they need to get the shuttle back to the bay. They dress quickly, clean the console and seats – no one deserves to get left with that mess – and Jim takes off the autopilot and guides them back down to Earth as Bones watches him work, his fingers moving over the controls almost instinctually. The transport is empty, Jim silent, and it’s only his fingers stroking gently against McCoy’s that keeps Bones from thinking he’s done something horribly wrong. He follows Jim without comment, doesn’t even complain when Jim keys them in to McCoy’s suite like it’s his own room.

McCoy’s barely in the door and he’s being guided to sit in his armchair, Kirk sliding into his lap, and Bones is taken back to their first night together. Jim doesn’t order the lights up so Bones leaves the room dark, lets Jim wrap his arms around his shoulders and rest his head against his neck. Lets it be until Jim is ready to speak.

“All my life…” Jim’s voice is soft and husky and has a tremble of uncertainty in it. “All my life, people have left me. My mom – she wasn’t even really there to begin with, and Frank, I knew better than to rely on him. But Sam…” he swallows thickly. “He was my _brother_. After he left, I stopped believing anyone would ever stay, and just started waiting for them to leave. So I kept all my relationships shallow, made sure no one got close. Spent every weekend in a different bed.” His gaze wavers, dips down, almost as if he’s embarrassed, and Bones strokes his side, gives a soft squeeze to tell him it’s okay. “And then…then you happened. You sat down next to me on that shuttle and it was like my defenses didn’t even _exist_. It never ever _occurred_ to me to keep you away.”

_Because we were meant for each other,_ Bones wants to say, because he knows it like he knows his own name, but he stays silent, lets Jim continue.

“When you tell me where I go, you go – when you tell me you’ll always stay – I never thought I’d ever believe those words again.” Jim cups his face, focuses his gaze, and Bones sees the universe in his eyes. “But you make me believe them. You make me believe in us.”

There’s nothing McCoy can say to that, nothing that can compare, so he pulls Kirk close, kisses him with his whole heart, because what does it matter, it’s Kirk’s now anyway. Jim gives his own heart back, and Bones takes it, treasures it, knows he must keep it safe above anything else.

“I love you,” he says when they pull apart, panting breathlessly. He hasn’t said it since that first morning after, and it still feels shocking to say the words out loud.

“I love you, too,” Jim whispers, but there’s a look of terror in his eyes, a fear that’s trying to claw its way out. “God, Bones, it scares me how much I love you. If you ever left – Bones, you can’t -” His voice cracks, and McCoy pulls him down close, wraps his arms around him like he’s trying to keep a nightmare at bay.

“Ssh, darlin’, I know.” His voice is low and hoarse because he’s scared too, scared of the strength of what he feels, scared that it still might all go wrong. He’s felt that drop before, knows it will be far worse this time around. Jim’s shaking in his arms and he wants to soothe him, promise him forever, but they’ve both lived the truth, know that forever is a myth, so he just presses his cheek to Jim’s temple, strokes his hand through Jim’s hair. “I’m here,” he says instead. “I love you, and I’m here.”

Kirk presses closer, and McCoy breathes in deep the smell of him, of his citrus-scented shampoo and his leather jacket and the remnants of the sterilized atmosphere of the shuttle bay. Then Jim lifts his head, noses at Bones’s ear, his breath hot on his neck. “Take me to bed, Bones,” he murmurs, his voice deep and languid, and McCoy smiles, responds with a kiss that feels like a promise, before letting Jim off his lap so they can strip and climb into McCoy’s bed, which should be too small but they sleep so wrapped up in each other it doesn’t matter. 

Bones pulls the covers up over them, blocks out the world, and when he dreams about a tiny shuttle out in deep space, for once, he isn't afraid.


End file.
